


Killing the love interest makes for good seasoning, Hollywood would agree.

by luxraoe



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Death, Pre-Canon, commision, presa appears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:48:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28676214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxraoe/pseuds/luxraoe
Summary: In which, plotting to kill the man who spared you is a viable option when spite and revenge are powerful motivators.
Relationships: Gaius & Wingul (Tales of Xillia), Gaius/Wingul (Tales of Xillia)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	Killing the love interest makes for good seasoning, Hollywood would agree.

The dried ink that had bled into the sheet of parchment started back at him clearly. There was no mistaking the characters on the page and he could only scoff. 

How foolish, he thought. 

If Wingul could lose his foothold so easily to an urban champion, then how could he regain his seat and bring glory to the clans. 

The letter mocked him. With every sentence, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. It lingered, unwelcomed by him and his pride. 

But, he paused to consider, he wanted to challenge that man again. Gaius was strong, in both mental fortitude and power. Losing to him, standing beside the throne as if he was a stranger to the seat, it resurfaced the things that Wingul lacked. 

How foolish, indeed. 

Even more foolish that Wingul entertained the invitation. Meeting in the privacy of a booked room of an inn, sitting amongst the small gathering of resentful bodies with a hand kept close to his blade. 

The spacious room provided did nothing to quell the suffocation in the air. The burning incense standing in the middle of the room, the crackle of the fire emitted warmth. Too much warmth. Combined with the several other bodies and the heated discussion, Wingul was all too tempted to pour the complimentary tea and quell those flames. 

They spoke with menacing smears and loose tongues. Happily sharing their plan with Wingul as if he were one of their own. However, the favor was welcomed. Wingul valued transparency, especially from colluders.

By the end, they'd reached a conclusion.

Wingul was to stay by the side of the newly titled King and a white-winged messenger would reappear to give him the signal that preparations had been completed. 

The rightful course of action was to inform Gaius of a planned attack against his name. After all, Wingul had sworn his loyalty to his new king, until he could kill the man himself by his own hand. 

But, the emotional wounds were still fresh. 

They had picked and prodded, aggravating the dormant feelings of resentment and shame. It festered and burned under his skin, fingers twitching with the familiar need to draw his blade and send the source of his inner frustrations to an early end. The satisfying feel of his blade cutting through the flesh, clean and precise. Bright crimson painting the streets, slowly staining the fresh powder as it flowed outwards. 

Time passed by in a blur, his awareness closeted within the buzz of his mind. He vaguely remembers details, miniscule and unimportant as he deemed them to be. 

The arrival of the promised messenger bird interrupted the boring drone. Carefully wrapping his fingers around the small tube and removing the letter inside, he read it quickly before sending his own correspondence to replace the message. 

Nudging the bird away, it flapped his wings upwards before flying off towards the sender. 

He sighed softly, “.. What am I doing?” exasperated and slightly agape at his askew moral compass. 

Wingul wondered, was he driven by spite or cowardice?

“That’s what I should be asking,” a voice interrupted. “Depending on your answer, I may have to report you.” 

“I didn’t take you to be a hypocrite, Presa.” 

“Yes, but even I know where my loyalties lay.” 

Presa’s eyes narrowed and rightfully so. Shining amber glinted with suspicion, hardened by her experience as Wingul remained insincere. A moment passed and she shrugged dismissively. “Whatever, it’s not my problem.” It’s enough for him to raise an eyebrow in question, unsure of what she may have been able to discern from just a brief once over. “However, try not to make a mess of things.” 

“Hm, so you’re dismissive so long as the duties do not bear a burden onto your own shoulders?”

“Don’t be smart with me,” she scoffed, adjusting the thin wired frames that sat on the bridge of her nose. “Least I change my mind, you know, given my history.”

Although they have not been acquainted for long, the jab at his own comment stung - although, warranted. Should the opportunity arise, he would have to at least apologize even if Presa didn’t seem the type to take heavy offense to such words. 

He made a small show of his hand waving off her subtle warning. “You need not concern yourself, it is only a surprise arrangement for his Highness." He says.

Wingul was expecting Gaius to put up some form of resistance against being pulled away from his duties. Imagine his surprise when the dark haired man agreed with ease, only staring him down with a considerate look before chuckling - almost amused. 

“I could use the fresh air, how thoughtful of you.” Gaius smiles, kind and friendly. His eyes crinkle near the far edges, deep amber depths filled with a lingering sense of warmth. The sight sent an unknown feeling in Wingul’s chest. That expression was undeserving for what was planned.

The freezing spirit climes offered a lovely view. The sun would rise early in the day, shining its warm glow and the fresh powder would glisten in the morning and shine like jewels at dusk. The mountain cliffs and it’s snowy cliff tops were something to behold.

"Why here?" Gaius asked, curiously and unsuspecting. Wingul wanted to chastise him for being so unguarded. 

They had stopped halfway down the road from Kanbalar, near an enclave between the mountain pass. Open and away from passing travelers or merchants. 

“No particular reason,” he stalls, keeping his back turned towards the other man. “I just thought this would be a good spot for some additional company.” 

“.. Additional?”

Similar to a play, the curtain began to rise as it began it’s final act. The heavy drapery unveiled the building plot, allowing the unsuspecting audience - his Highness, himself, witness the betrayal of his associate. A sizable crowd emerged from the woodwork, in fact there were more people who stood against Gaius’s new rule than he thought. 

There was nothing emotional about the scene. 

They were coworkers at best, barely anything more than a newly crowned King and the petty man who was taken in by his good graces. 

He expected his majesty to look at him with eyes of betrayal - of anger, maybe. But as he turned his head towards the object of his spite, Gaius continued to defy his beliefs. Eyes determined, glinting with humor and his lips turned upwards just briefly to smirk. As if he scoffed and just that quick exhale had disrupted it’s neutral positioning. 

“So, you invited friends?” Gaius speaks, projecting his voice more outwardly. He’s making a show, Wingul realizes. 

“Do you understand your situation,” he replies, baffled. Closing his hands around the hilt of his blade with the intent to unsheathe it and point it towards his new King. “Or will you continue to make a mockery of me.” 

Gaius pauses, raising an eyebrow, as if confused before letting his eyes slip closed. He sighs, “I see..” Steadily he moved to his own sword, shaking his foes into action in hopes to cut him down before the dark haired man was able to move against him.

Wingul blinked as a rush of wind blew past him and within that moment, the air became still. 

The next there was a telling ring of metal before the onslaught of red filled his vision. There was no pain, only the realization that color bled against the blank canvas of white. The snow dyed crimson, with one man standing in the lone ring, untouched by his own carnage. Victorious, yet unsatisfied. 

It was over so quickly. Falling to his knees before him once more, Wingul vaguely realized that he had not been cut. Only his pride was wounded.

Resorting to such a cheap tactic. Lying to the man who gave him mercy. Still, despite those crimes against his own spirit, he could not win. If only his body were stronger, maybe then his fate could have been altered before he could reach such a low point as this.

“Stand.” 

He couldn’t. His legs unwilling to obey, so he lifted his head. His eyes looked up to meet Gaius. Even if his body did not respond to his own commands, he would not allow his eyes to waver as well. 

Finding his voice, he rasped. “Why did you not strike me down?” 

“Do you wish for it?” He asked, tilting his head. Considering, almost curious. 

Wingul did not respond, losing his tongue just as it had returned to him. So he bit his lip, frustrated. Death would be more merciful than this humiliation. Eventually, he shook his head, “.. I will not rest until I stand victorious.” 

“Then if that’s the case, you may remain at my side, just as before.” 

“Are you mocking me?” When he expressed confusion, he grit his teeth and rephrased his question. “Do you not see me as a threat to your life?” 

“I do.” He replies, obviously. Wingul was at a loss once more. 

“Keeping one’s enemies close, if I’m not mistaken.” He recites, “Although, it would be more beneficial of me to say: today’s enemy, could be tomorrow’s friend. I wish to make an ally of you, having you alive is worth more than another corpse.” 

“.. So, you desire a tool-”

“Ally. I thought I spoke clearly.” He could not help but laugh, the tension leaving his body slowly beginning to deflate from the absurdity. The man was a fool to leave this level of insubordination to go unpunished. “What is so funny?”

“.. Aha, I am not sure myself.” He admits through a fading, self-deprecating chuckle. “Perhaps I laugh at myself for being a fool...” 

Gaius refuted, “You are no fool. You are a worthy adversary who was merely tempted during a moment of weakness.” He spoke considerately, a hand drawn towards his chin. A gesture of deep thought. “Within that weakness, you attracted those who thought ill of my ascension. Considering all that has occurred, this act was beneficial in snipping the bud.” 

“... Is that how you see it?” 

“It’s how I wish to see it.” A hand was pressed forward, palms facing upwards as Gaius gestures. “But, only if you will realign your loyalties.” 

It was an ultimatum, he notes. A sweetly decorated offering, a second chance. Wingul was beginning to believe that this man was beyond his comprehension as it was clearly impossible to read him. His actions defied what was rational. 

Cut down a loose thread before it has the chance to unfurl, that was what made sense. Yet, he persists. 

“You lack surprise.” Wingul deflects momentarily, taking hold of the other’s hand so that he could stand. “Were you informed of my coup?” 

His Highness scoffs, “I had my suspicions that something was amiss when your behavior deviated from your usual self..” he admits, “But that was all. Should I have been notified?” 

Wingul paused, assessing Gaius with his eyes before he sighed, “No, I am merely noting my observation.” Because it was too much to think about Gaius noticing such small details without prompting. He knew that he kept his expression and tells hidden well, to realize the miniscule details where Wingul may have faltered.. It implied a watchful eye. 

The realization sent a thrill down his back. 

After a short beat, Wingul says, “I shall not fall for such petty temptations again.. If I am to kill you, I will accomplish it without trickery.” 

The fond laugh that followed coaxed a small smile onto Winguls lips, just barely masking the bitter taste on his tongue. “I would have it no other way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively: in which Wingul wants to kill and Gaius thinks it's his way of showing affection.


End file.
